


The queen of all I've seen

by luffywhatelse



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist Manga, Canon: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Ed x Winry, EdxWin, EdxWinry, F/M, Fluff, Kids, One Shot, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist Manga, Post-Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Romance, Slice of Life, edward x winry, fma, kids in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-12
Updated: 2020-01-12
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22218283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luffywhatelse/pseuds/luffywhatelse
Summary: What does it mean that she asked him to join her on the back patio? What does it mean that she put her head on his shoulder? Does it mean she likes him? Does she know that he likes her?She falls asleep on his shoulder and he remains motionless so as not to wake her up.He touches her hair with his fingertips gently following the outline of her face, holding his breath for a few seconds. He watches her with his heart in his throat, making sure he doesn't wake her up. Tracing her features with a finger as if he was drawing them; her temple, her cheek, her chin.He feels more and more confused but the confusion has never been so beautiful.
Relationships: Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Comments: 7
Kudos: 54





	The queen of all I've seen

**Author's Note:**

> *Post Brotherhood*

Her head is on his shoulder, and they sit on the back patio of her house. Outdoor lightings illuminate Granny's red and white flowers, and crickets chirp in the night. They were the same old Edward and Winry just a few minutes earlier, but then, something changed.

The first time Winry put her head on his shoulder was when they were two kids on a class trip. Their school chartered a bus to transport the nearly 15 of them down to the city to visit a museum.

On the way home, Winry and Ed sat next to each other on the bus; the current of excitement in the bus diminished to a hushed quiet, and then a silence in which you could only hear the low hum of the rotating wheels beneath them.

That’s when she put her head on his shoulder.

He couldn’t tell if she was consciously resting her head there, or if it accidentally slumped into that position as she fell asleep. 

_What does this mean? Does it mean she likes me? Does she know that I like her? Are we a couple now?_ \- he asked himself.

He looked around, confused and embarrassed: it couldn't be good for his reputation. Thankfully, nobody was watching them because the other kids were all half-asleep. 

So, in the light of the setting sun, with Winry’s head on his shoulder, he forced his eyes to stay open because he didn’t want to fall asleep. He wanted that moment to last forever and started imagining what it would be like to hold hands together for the rest of the trip, and beyond.

It didn't happen though. She ignored him for the rest of the weekend. It was as if the whole thing never happened. So he pretended like it never happened either. And like that, the whole relationship he’d built in his head was gone.

The second time Winry put her head on his shoulder was when they were 15, on a train to Central City. But then she immediately asked, “this isn’t uncomfortable for you, is it?” not really waiting for permission. 

His face flushed with excitement.

And he hated himself because, once again, he couldn't stop thinking about how it could feel to be her boyfriend. They'd go out on dinner dates. They'd talk on the phone every day... _They'd make out in her bedroom_.

And there he goes, mentally reciting the periodic table backwards - _Oganesson, Tennessine, Livermorium, Moscovium, Flerovium..._

Two years later he's still asking the same type of questions. What does it mean that she asked him to join her on the back patio? What does it mean that she put her head on his shoulder? Does it mean she likes him? Does she know that he likes her?

She falls asleep on his shoulder and he remains motionless so as not to wake her up.  
The light and tight-fitting pink shirt further emphasizes her fair skin. Her gathered blond hair frames the soft skin of her serious face. Thin lips, rippled by her light breathing.

He can feel her breath, soft and warm against his skin. He stares at her, lingering to breathe in her smell and  
smiling at the childlike way she sleeps; her hand gripping his shirt.

Her closed eyelids separate him from the blue of her eyes. Big blue eyes. Eyes that bring back memories and make them slide into his present.

Striving to impress every detail in his mind: the way she fits perfectly in the hollow of his shoulder and those pink lips slightly parted. Ed feels a sort of devotion pouring from his soul.

There's one spot of her body that has always made him crazy more than other ones, and it's the point near her throat, under the jaw, before the neck ends. Where the heart beats and the skin is more tender. That spot where one afternoon, when they were kids, he sank his face crying, breathing it with his eyes closed, recognizing it. The only place in the world where he would have sought shelter, away from prying eyes.

He touches her hair with his fingertips gently following the outline of her face, holding his breath for a few seconds. He watches her with his heart in his throat, making sure he doesn't wake her up. Tracing her features with a finger as if he was drawing them; her temple, her cheek, her chin. Winry shivers but doesn't open her eyes and Ed gets scared but stays still and stops breathing again.

Then his finger slips again, this time along the curve of her nose. He feels more and more confused but the confusion has never been so beautiful. Like a dream. A shiver runs through him looking down at her with an entranced expression on his face. He has never seen a prettier girl. He cannot name what he feels. But maybe it's because he's still very scared of it. Winry overwhelms him, her hair like a fragrant and soft river is intoxicating him. She's always so beautiful.

Ever since he knew her, somehow, she was the one he observed and desired, and it had already seemed strange to him. Anyone turned invisible when she was there. Winry was an irresistible call but he just stood by, downplayed his feelings, sometimes got nervous.

He lingers his hand on her cheekbones.  
Winry is a volcano and he's a miniature of himself. Which says a lot, since he was a wren, in the old days. He was always nervous, bad, dissatisfied, completely caught up in his research. Several times, he had found himself in front of an imaginary mirror, looking for his true face, but all he found was just another mask. He wondered if there really was someone underneath it but maybe there was absolutely nothing and he was made of all those masks put together, without being one in particular.

But she had looked at him.

As if she had sought contact with his skin, stretched her gaze just beyond the first layer, immediately finding the imperfection of his mask. And she had come straight to his heart.

She never left from there.

Winry overwhelms him with her affection, she has eyes shining with emotion if she realizes that something is wrong. And he speaks to her without actually saying anything. 

He's about to smile but a noise makes him jerk and move his hand away from her face. Edward would like the whole world to remain absolutely silent so as not to wake her up.

Nobody speak.

How many times has he hesitated although he desperately wanted it? He didn't know why, maybe it was just pure desire but he approaches her, feeling his legs start to fail and his hand reaching her face again so he can kiss her, no matter where.

Seems like it takes him forever.

He feels his heart beat in his temples and flirts with the idea of being able to do it this time. He will never get used to the way she makes him feel.

He looks at her.

 _Here we go_ \- he thinks.

The clouds outside are swollen and it looks like it's gonna rain, but it's not rain, it's his disconnected thoughts and urges.

He feels electricity running through his nerves and begins to believe that he cannot touch her without her risking the shock.

But as he looks at Winry's lips, he thinks he's the one who's getting shocked.

Winry knows nothing.

And he doesn't know where he finds the strength to face those situations. Like when, lately, she approaches him, not being aware of what she causes. His heart is racing faster than a cheetah.

There was never anything unknown between him and Winry. It was just well hidden and he always knew everything without actually knowing anything.

He thought it was a great friendship.

Yes, _great_.

He had never wanted to think about it that much. There was no time. But he would travel the world on foot for her.

So when they told him that sooner or later he would fall in love with a girl, he never believed it. Because in those moments the only thing that flashed into his mind was Winry's face.

An unconfessable part of him, romantic and dreamer, imagined a future together, but in the meantime he thought he would be alone. An Adam who savored the forbidden fruit and was paying for his sins forever.

But there are people who are too hard to forget or replace.

She looks like a sleeping doll on her shoulder. He could hold her in his hands if he wanted to. 

_We fit like two puzzle pieces_ \- he thinks.

He always felt she was his, he didn't just want her to be. When he fought with Alphonse to decide which of them would marry her, when the stupid Ling, the Briggs' automail mechanic or anyone else made advances to her. 

But what is he doing? He was about to kiss her and got lost in his thoughts. Winry would laugh and make fun of him, but his heart is not kidding.

He looks for her lips now, he no longer breathes but doesn't care, he would give his last supply of oxygen to savor that mouth. Trying to touch her lips with his is a desperate gesture to make that bond live forever.

He leans towards her and is so close that he almost touches her. He can feel the warmth of her lips.

Still not daring, he lingers to breathe in her breath with such a pounding heart that he must close his eyes.

But he winces slightly. He stands and looks at her face. He's pale, full of ecstatic fear. Realizing what he was about to do, he collects himself chasing away his confusion and blushes, feeling like a pervert; he doesn't want to kiss her like that.

Even if he wants her. Even if he wants her kisses and smiles just for him.

Part of him still can’t shake the feeling that it doesn’t mean anything when she put her head on his shoulder.

But he knows he's madly in love with her. Because what he has learned since Winry Rockbell first did it, is that he’d rather live in a world where holding hands and resting your head on someone’s shoulder means something. 

So he stays with her on the back patio. They’re going to sit there for a while. 

Because she likes having him around and he likes _her_. Simple.


End file.
